that's not what the loading screen looks like

it's 1:48 A.M., and chris is up playing video games, as one does. he's grinding through the map against all of the best international players when the western players are (mostly) asleep, as one does. he's trying his hardest not to laugh or shout this late at night so mark won't come in and kick his ass for "disturbing his beauty sleep" (even though they both know well that mark doesn't sleep until at least 3 A.M.), as one does. but it doesn't really matter. it's the weekend anyway, and his dad is too tired to tell him off for staying up.

unfortunately for chris, the ass-kicking comes either way when some insane diamond-ranked korean player blasts his character into space without a single chance for resistance. for about ten seconds, he just stares at the defeat screen.

"damn." chris shrugs. "i'll get 'em next time."

as chris clicks into the next round, his screen dims with the dark loading screen. normally, he'll be met with the reflection of his face, but something unexpected turns up this time: faint purple wisps surrounding his chair.

that's not what the loading screen looks like.

he turns around. there's nothing there. curious, chris tabs out of his game and opens a document with a black background. the wisps are still on the screen. they're moving. then, he hears a high-pitched gasp, and the wisps suddenly shoot away.

there's not a lot that scares chris, but this definitely comes close.

shutting his monitor in a rush, chris swings out of his chair and dashes towards the door. the wisps are nowhere to be seen, but they have to have gone somewhere. he yanks his door open and dashes out his room, where his eyes catch a violet glint on a picture frame hanging on the wall. the purple light continues to dart from picture to picture, confirming chris's suspicions that something is definitely happening. he charges after it, clamoring down the stairs with anticipation (and receiving a loud groan of irritation from mark's room in the process). however, once he reaches the first floor, the lights are nowhere to be found. weird. 

although a little disappointed, chris decides that continuing the search is pointless, especially this late at night. he's a bit tired, and he would rather not stomp around the house and wake abby or cause more anguish for his dad. but as he turns to walk back up the stairs, he hears hushed whispers from the kitchen. 

chris slowly tiptoes towards the kitchen and peeks in to see his dad standing in front of the counter, arms crossed, looking particularly pissed. well, pissed might be a strong word. more disappointed than anything. disappointed at what -- or who, though?

"what did i tell you about wandering around?" his dad suddenly says to what seems like nobody in particular. "you're going to scare my kids."

what the hell what the hell what the hell, chris thinks. he instinctively prepares to shift away, but his morbid curiosity keeps his feet rooted to the ground. who is he talking to?

there's a moment of silence before his dad speaks again. "i know -- we'll figure this... whole thing out, but i have to look after them first. i'm sorry."

chris watches the conversation unfold before him, dumbfounded. attempting to see if there's anything else in the room, chris leans closer towards the entrace and knocks over a candle on a table propped against the wall, of which he fortunately catches before it can crash on the floor.

still, the noise was enough to alert his dad, who snaps towards the sound. "is anyone there?" he demands.

chris holds his breath for a full thirty seconds before his dad turns away again.

"i... should probably go to bed," his dad says with a sigh. "i think i'm hearing things. we can talk more later."

realizing this is his cue to leave, chris swiftly tiptoes back up the stairs and ducks into his room right before he hears his dad's footsteps following him up. he launches into his bed and pulls the sheets over his shoulders right before his door creaks open with a sliver of light.

"chris?" his dad asks softly. "are you awake?"

chris doesn't reply. 

then, the door closes, and his dad continues down the hall. probably to check on mark's room. yup, he's telling mark to shut off the phone and go to bed. mark probably won't listen. but it'll be fine.

after his dad's footsteps completely subside, chris lies awake, staring at his cieling. he's discovered something incredible today: his dad is talking to a ghost. that's the only explanation. actually, he could be talking to someone on the phone with an earbud that isn't visible, but that's somehow even less likely than a ghost. or he could be dreaming. is he dreaming? he's always had crazy nightmares as a kid, so maybe he's lucid dreaming or sleepwalking and mark actually kicked his ass so hard he fell asleep and didn't even realize.

when did this start? nothing seems to have changed in his dad's behavior. either he's been hiding it really well, or this is a recent development. now that chris thinks about it, his dad has been just a smidge more stressed as of late...

i really hope this is just a dream, chris thinks, squeezing his eyes shut. 

he knows it probably isn't. but it's late and he's tired and he doesn't want to think of the possibility that his dad is being haunted by a probably-friendly ghost that also lives in their house. 

as he drifts to sleep, chris makes a checklist in his head:
1. find out how long his dad has been haunted
2. find out if the ghost is actually nice or not
3. get his dad to come clean about the fact that he's being haunted by a ghost
4. ??? profit

thus, chris sleeps with a resolve to crack the mystery of the strange ghost in his house while making sure his dad doesn't suspect him in the slightest. as one does.